Disclaimer: I own nada. I don't even have my own pair of green socks (pouts…:note to self: get green socks). I doubt Ewan will ever read this but just in case he or an associate of his does, I meant no harm by writing this, and I hope I don't offend anyone in any way. PS: I worship the ground you walk on!
Story Line: Boredom is dangerous I tell you! This is a very silly, very twisted Star Wars - related fic, involving the green socks Ewan McGregor wore on the Late Show with David Letterman. Beware - untamed insanity on my part. A surprise ending people! Stick with it to the end!
It was a typical Friday. Guenever had already arrived at my house, and as usual we lay on my blue battered couch trying to think of how to fulfill our boredom. We had already picked up the new shipment of comics, already read them and our own books-in-progress. She had already gotten her trademark cup of tap water and I my Ovaltine hit for the afternoon. Now what should we do? I rolled around to face her.
"Guen?"
"What did you bring?" I motioned to her stuffed Tommy Hilfiger bag she usually had with her.
She gave me a wide grin, "Ewan," she stated.
Instantly I was energized and popped up to get the bag, "Shut up! He wouldn't fit in here," nevertheless I began rummaging through the sack anyway.
"No," she got up and delivered a bop on my head, "I brought the tape."
"The tape? Oh, the tape!" I smiled excitedly and lunged for the VCR. "Wait a minute, not Velvet Goldmine again? The only good part in that movie was when he poured glitter in his hair. Oh, and 'tell Mr. Monkey we're having a funky,' that was funny. What was that stuff he rubbed all over himself anyway?"
Guen stared at me blankly, "Caitlin, who cares? He was pouring something down his chest and touching himself."
"Good point," I stated blankly, now jealous of whatever liquid it was that he had poured all over the place. "Completely perfect except for that bellybutton of his," I said mostly to myself.
Guen sighed loudly, "He was naked and you concentrate on his bellybutton."
"Bellybuttons are important, you know!" I argued.
Guen just shook her head at me, "Bellybutton," she said, "you look not at his glistening, glittering chest, but his bellybutton."
"I paid plenty of attention to the rest of him. Just the blond hair and the bellybutton threw me off."
"There's nothing wrong with blond hair!" Guen exclaimed. She liked blondes and I didn't, so this was a classic argument between us.
"Yeah, that's why you go for Luke," I teased, yet another classic argument.
"No, Luke doesn't have chest hair," she stated simply.
"Neither does Ewan in Velvet Goldmine," I countered.
"Well, he does in real life."
"True. So what's on this tape?"
"He's in our city as we speak, last night he did the Late Show and this morning he did the Today Show and Regis."
"Whoa, feel the vibes man. He's in the same city! We've gotta go hunt him down!" I started waving my arms around so I could 'feel the vibes.' Guen just laughed at me and slipped in the tape.
*One hour later, after watching all of his appearances*
I wiped the drool from my chin and lay down on my wood floor, sighing, "I love his accent," I cooed.
"I love him," Guen said as she switched off the tape.
"Well," I sat up, "That goes without saying."
"It's not fair," I beat the floor with my fists, "That hostess got a big hug from him. And she was totally drooling over him, that's our job!"
"Regis said he's expecting another baby," Guen humored me. I just dropped my head to the floor and wailed. She patted me sympathetically. I rolled and sat up again, pondering.
"He changes clothes a lot."
"Rich people do that, Caitlin," Guen shook her head at me mock-condescendingly.
"He must have been hot underneath that black windbreaker he wore on Dave…" I trailed off dreamily.
"Hot and sweaty," Guen completed the thought, "I bet you would've helped him with that."
"With pleasure," I grinned and put my hands behind my head, "it had a zipper, very easy access to what's underneath…"
"Mmmmmm," Guen acknowledged, equally dreamily.
"But seriously, he changed clothes at least three times, maybe more," I started up again. Not getting much of a response from my dreaming friend, I sighed and began to wonder about the minor details, "I wonder where those green socks ended up."
Guenever burst out laughing.
"I say we hit the city and find him, he's probably out partying in some club," I offered her.
"Sure Cadi, I'll print up the fake ID's and you pay for train fare," Guen mused.
"Okay, okay, can we at least go into Manhattan and scope out the ritzy hotels?"
"Sure," Guen stated. I couldn't tell if she was serious or not, so I got up to get ready to go.
*One hour later, in Manhattan*
Guen and I stood just outside the train station stairwell, deciding where to go first. She had put together her gold platform shoes, tight black sparkling pants and her tight silver shirt, topped with a braid and a Yoda baseball cap. I had managed to throw together my darkest blue flare jeans and purple camisole with my gray woven over-shirt and purple boots, with my hair down as usual. In a sentence- we had dressed in clothing we wanted Ewan to see us in. The Plaza would be a likely target, so we started walking.
"What if he threw the green socks in the laundry chute of the hotel?" I asked my counterpart as we neared the Plaza.
"Then we'll just have to find them," she said.
Suddenly I started jumping like a maniac, scaring the people on the street, but I always do that, so Guen wasn't too shocked, "I have an idea!"
"Oh no," Guen said grimly.
"A really goooooooooood idea," I continued.
"Do tell," Guen feared the worst.
"We pose as new maids on our first night of work, that will get us into both the laundry room and maybe even Ewan's room!" I continued jumping.
"You're crazy," Guen said.
"That's why I hang out with you, remember?"
"And how do we get past security?"
"We use the Force," I said, waving my hand, mocking a Jedi mind trick.
"Fair enough," Guen said, leading the way inside the Plaza Hotel. The security guard gave us a once-over as we approached the desk. I fought down my shyness and looked at him innocently.
"Um, hi," I said to him, he remained motionless, "we're the two new maids that were hired, tonight's our first shift," I said, praying he would buy it. The man gave us a snooty expression.
"Very well," he said, "I'll need to see your official papers so I can give you your ID tags."
Crap, I thought. I glanced at Guen, who was buying this about as much as the security guard. I took a deep breath and held it for a second, then concentrated and waved my hand, "You don't need to see our official papers," I bit my lip and prayed again that this would work.
After a moment his eyes glazed over with absence, "I don't need to see your official papers," he repeated. Guen stared at me with amazement, I just shrugged at her with equal surprise. Apparently the Force was with us tonight. I smiled and waved my hand again, "You will give us our ID tags without further questioning."
"I will give you your ID tags without further questioning," the man repeated and motioned for us to follow him. Moments later we came out with brand new Plaza Hotel ID tags, picture and all. We followed the security guard back to the desk. I was enjoying my power trip.
"Now," I said persuasively, "you will tell me if Ewan McGregor is here, and what room he's in."
The security guard blankly checked the computer and within seconds told us that he was in room 510. After an excited giggle fit I thanked the guard and went with Guen to the elevators. Within seconds we had been zipped up to the 5th floor. Approaching room 510, I stopped abruptly.
"Guen-?" I asked quietly.
"Yeah Caitlin?" she responded quickly enough.
"I can't do it," I said in a quivering voice.
"What?" my best friend asked in disbelief, "What do you mean you can't do it? We just went through all that to get here."
"I'm afraid I'll do something stupid," Guen rolled her eyes at me, "I could die."
"Die of what?" she said skeptically.
I gave a small smile with my response, "Die of happiness, I could hyperventilate…" I was cut short as Guen pulled me by the hand towards the room.
"You got us all the way up here," she was saying, "you can't freak out now."
"Guen! No! Leggo! Ah!" I tried to fight her grip on my wrist but she held fast. We neared the door and she clasped her hand over my mouth, "Shut up Cadi! Just breathe, okay? I'll do the talking," so as usual Guen took over as the brains of the operation as I faded out.
With a deep breath she gave a small knock on the door, all the while holding me. Completely catatonic, I stumbled and fell against the door. Guen attempted to pull me off, but to no avail. Inside I could hear water being turned off and I gulped as I tried to regain logical thinking.
"'Oo is it?" came a man's voice from inside- a voice Guen and I recognized immediately. That snapped me out of it and I jolted straight up, breathing quickening by the second. Guen looked at me and put her finger to her lips telling me to keep quiet.
"Room service," she called politely.
"Oh! Come in, come in!" came the cheery response and the unlatching of the door. The door swung open seconds later to reveal a lavish hotel room and a figure ducking behind the bathroom door. Guen examined the place and then pushed me forward into the room so she could shut the door. I was breathing so fast things were starting to get fuzzy. Guen grasped me by the shoulders and looked me in the eye.
"Caitlin, this is your chance to meet Ewan McGregor, you want to be conscious so you can remember him, right?"
I nodded my head rapidly.
"Ok, so slow down your breathing, and concentrate on calming yourself down," she commanded. Eventually I managed to follow her directions and calmed down a bit. I could hear a doorknob being turned and looked toward the room the figure had disappeared into before.
And from the room appeared a god- most of you know him as Ewan McGregor- in a pair of sweats and a white undershirt, toweling off his fuzzy auburn hair. He smiled politely at us, ""Ello girls, what can I do for you?" he said with that marvelous Scottish accent of his. Guen blinked, and then blinked harder. A small gasp escaped me, and suddenly I was overcome with euphoria. I dropped down to the floor, bowing my head as far down to the floor as I could manage, "I'm not worthy!" I said.
Ewan looked at me, and then to Guen. He pointed at me, "Is she all right?" he said, confused.
"Oh yeah, she's fine," Guen assured him, "we're just- really big fans," she smiled at him, savoring every second of his presence.
"Oh ho, I see," he said, laughing. With only a slight hesitation he bent down beside me and broke my worship by tapping me on the shoulder. I looked up to find those gorgeous blues/greens/grays twinkling at me, "Ahm (Author's Note: this should be spelled 'um,' but he says it 'ahm,' cute, don't you think?), would you like an autograph or something?" he asked. I opened my mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Ewan looked to Guen again for help.
"What she's trying to say is yes, she would love an autograph, but what we really want is your clothes," she answered. Only a few seconds later did she realize how her request could be taken.
"My clothes?" he asked, confused again by the teenaged babble.
"Your dirty clothes," I managed to spurt out, not that it helped the situation.
"Your laundry," Guen emphasized, "We're room service, remember?"
It took him a second or two but Ewan came around, "Oh! Oh yes, of course," he began moving around the room to pick up the discarded garments lying around the place. I meanwhile managed to stand on my own two feet again. Guen gave me a look that told me she didn't know whether to laugh at me or shake her head in dismay. I was busy following Ewan's every move with dreamy eyes. Within a few minutes he came back to us with a pile of clothes of assorted colors. Neither of us had a bag so we removed our coats and made a makeshift sack to carry the stuff. Guen tied the sleeves of her mafia coat to the shaggy sleeves of my long dark denim one to make a nice handle to the creation. Ewan gave us a strange look but nonetheless plopped his clothing into the new sack.
"Pleasure meeting you, girls," he said politely as he got the door for us, "will you be returning it to me when it's done?"
"It should be done in about an hour and a half, would we be disturbing you if we came up?" Guen was the only one functional enough to ask.
"Oh no, I should still be up," he waved his hand carelessly. With another push from Guen I managed to start moving again, "Oh! Wait!" he called to us suddenly, "I owe you an autograph," he said and began looking around for something to write with. I made one conscious thought for the night and handed him my trusty purple pen. The next problem was he needed something to write on, and neither of us could help him there. His eyes fell on the white undershirt he had on, and with visible mental debate shrugged, and pulled it off in a matter of seconds. Guen and I looked at each other as our jaws dropped in turn- this couldn't be happening. As our eyes fell on his body he started writing, but soon looked up at us again, "Sorry, I never got your names," oblivious to our stares.
"Caitlin," I managed to speak once again, perhaps I was recovering from the initial shock, "and she's Guenever."
A few seconds later the still-topless Ewan McGregor handed me his undershirt. My brain told my arm to move, it just didn't work, so eventually Guen raised my arm for me so he could place the shirt in my hand.
"Ahm," he said with a witty glint in his eye, "make sure you don't wash that, now."
"We won't," Guen complied, "See you later."
As the door shut, Guen sighed deeply, "That was fun," she said with a grin.
I still couldn't talk, so instead I began sorting through the laundry. It was all there, the black T-shirt and matching windbreaker- the one with the zipper, the dark jeans, the Nashville T-shirt, everything. I examined each garment, my mind flashing back to the talk shows I had seen them on.
"Well I guess that answers the 'boxers or briefs' question," Guen joked in reference to a certain garment that was in the pile. I was slowly going back to my old self, and cracked up when she said it.
"But-" I started, realizing something as we piled the clothes into the machine the lady down there told us was the fastest.
"What?" Guen asked.
"No green socks," I said, half disappointed and half curious as to why they weren't there.
"He must've forgotten to give them to us," Guen said logically.
"Aw man," I replied.
*Meanwhile, back in Ewan's hotel room*
Ewan was leisurely watching TV and sipping some tasty whiskey when he heard a rustling underneath the king-size bed. He took a look under there nonchalantly, and was surprised to find a pair of his green socks lying there.
"Must've missed them when the girls were here," he said to nobody, chuckling quietly to himself as he remembered the taller one's look on her face when he'd emerged from the bathroom and his identity registered with her. He picked up the socks and tossed them lazily onto the bed with him to continue watching TV.
But there was another noise under the bed. Curious and slightly annoyed, Ewan looked again.
"Eh he he he he he," came a gravelly laugh from underneath, and Ewan's eyes widened as he realized what was under there.
"What the-? Ah!" Ewan shouted as he was pulled under the bed.
***
The laundry was done soon enough, and we headed back up to Ewan's room. In control of myself this time, I proudly knocked on the door, "Mr. Ewan, sir? We're back with your laundry."
"Mr. Ewan?" Guen cocked an eyebrow mockingly.
"Shatap," I replied with a grin.
There was no verbal answer, the door just unlocked and opened slowly to reveal a dark and quiet room. Guen and I exchanged a glance, but entered the room anyway.
"Um, Mr. McGregor? We have your laundry here-" Guen offered the silence. Suddenly the lights flipped on, and a little green man jumped onto the bed. Guen and I gasped when we realized who it was.
"Eh he he he he he he! Startled you, I did!" came the ever-so-familiar gravelly voice and a wiggle of the pointy ears.
"That explains how the Force worked before," Guen said grimly. I smiled widely- I loved Yoda! But what was he doing here and what was on his hands. I squinted, trying to figure out what was covering his hands, and gave a loud gasp as I saw-
The green socks.
"Eh he he he he he! The Master of Green I am! Yes! Mine, the socks are! Mine! Eh he he he he he he!" Yoda laughed as he swigged down the last of Ewan's whiskey.
As we stared in awe, we heard a muffled cry from the closet. Guen was the first to run over to it. As I moved to follow, I was suddenly attacked by a flying green mass. Yoda tackled me and we hit the floor. Guen didn't notice as she threw open the closet door to discover a bound and gagged Ewan, whom she quickly untied (but not without remembering those bondage conversations a while back, right Guen?). Yoda and I rolled, he was beating at me with the socks on his hands, all the while laughing insanely. Thinking fast, Guen whipped off her hat and started beating the little troll with it as Ewan pulled a broomstick from the closet he had just been in and tried to pry him off. At first Yoda went unaffected, but soon enough he saw that the cap he was being beaten with had him on it.
"Mine!" the little demon cried as he lunged at it. Free now, I ran to the bed for a pillowcase as he proceeded to gnaw at my best friend's fingers, trying to get her to release the hat. Pillowcase ready in hand, I motioned to Ewan.
"Can you get that stick under his robes?" I yelled over Yoda's cackling and Guen's screaming.
"Sure," he yelled back and did so.
"Guen, when I say so, let go of the hat!" I yelled to her.
"No! I love this hat!"
"Trust me, just do it!" I looked back to Ewan, whose (not to mention gorgeous, dazzling, mesmerizing, divine…ahem, back to the story) eyes told me he was ready. "Ok," I said as loud as I could, "1…2…3! Let go, Guen!" Guen followed the command and let go of the cap, while Ewan used the stick as a lever and sent Yoda flying into the air. I managed to bag him inside the pillowcase and tied it up before the wriggling green mass could escape. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Ewan help Guen up.
"Are you alright?" he asked her.
"My hat," she said sadly, barely taking in that Ewan had just touched her.
"It's in here," I said to both of them, extending my arm to offer them the bag, "Want me to get it?"
"Please?" Guen said, taking the pillowcase from me so I could reach in and grab it. Carefully I wedged my hand through the tight opening and felt for the cap. Yoda started wriggling more than ever and screaming as I pulled on it. I pulled harder, wishing the midget would give up already. As if reading my thoughts, he suddenly let go and I went flying. Ewan moved fast and managed to catch me before I collided with a very expensive-looking lamp. But even before I could enjoy my new position he stood me upright, laughing heartily. I handed Guen the cap as I went back to standing by her side.
"Ahm, well, that was exciting, wasn't it?" he said to us jokingly. We giggled feverishly in return. "I can't thank you enough girls," he said then, seriously. He clasped his hands together and shuddered at the still-wriggling pillowcase.
"What are we going to do with him?" Guenever asked to no one in particular.
Ewan grinned widely and led us to the perfect solution.
We enjoyed hearing the *clunk* as the Yoda-stuffed pillowcase found the end of the laundry chute. That taken care of, Guen and I knew we had to get going. Autographed undershirt in hand, she and I looked at the god for one last time.
"Goodbye, Mr. McGregor," Guen was the first to say.
"Oh please, call me Ewan," he said with another of his knockout smiles.
"Ok, goodbye Ewan. Um, do you think I could-" I had gotten a pleasant idea but decided it best not to ask.
"Could what?" he and Guen asked in unison.
"Never mind, I'm embarrassed to ask," I said shyly.
"What? Tell me," he pleaded politely, his smile unfading.
I sighed deeply, deciding to go ahead and ask anyway, "Could I have a hug?"
"Of course! You both can!" he exclaimed pleasantly, giving us each big hugs in turn. It was a hug that squashed my jealousy of that hostess on Regis. I must've been glowing with happiness at that point, but I didn't care, because the god had hugged me.
"Goodbye girls, and thanks for the laundry," he said laughing as he closed the door. Guen and I must've stood there grinning like idiots in the hallway for some time before we remembered the autographed undershirt. I unfolded it and read the message out loud: "To Caitlin and Guenever, May the Force be with You, Love, Ewan McGregor."
"Wow," Guen sighed.
"He must've noticed your cap," I thought out loud.
"Yep," Guen said proudly.
So a night that had begun with green socks had ended with a Yoda cap with a new special memory behind it, and the shirt straight off of Ewan McGregor's back.
Tada! You like? I'm crazy I know. Bet you never suspected Yoda to make an appearance. Muahaha!
Story Line: Boredom is dangerous I tell you! This is a very silly, very twisted Star Wars - related fic, involving the green socks Ewan McGregor wore on the Late Show with David Letterman. Beware - untamed insanity on my part. A surprise ending people! Stick with it to the end!
It was a typical Friday. Guenever had already arrived at my house, and as usual we lay on my blue battered couch trying to think of how to fulfill our boredom. We had already picked up the new shipment of comics, already read them and our own books-in-progress. She had already gotten her trademark cup of tap water and I my Ovaltine hit for the afternoon. Now what should we do? I rolled around to face her.
"Guen?"
"What did you bring?" I motioned to her stuffed Tommy Hilfiger bag she usually had with her.
She gave me a wide grin, "Ewan," she stated.
Instantly I was energized and popped up to get the bag, "Shut up! He wouldn't fit in here," nevertheless I began rummaging through the sack anyway.
"No," she got up and delivered a bop on my head, "I brought the tape."
"The tape? Oh, the tape!" I smiled excitedly and lunged for the VCR. "Wait a minute, not Velvet Goldmine again? The only good part in that movie was when he poured glitter in his hair. Oh, and 'tell Mr. Monkey we're having a funky,' that was funny. What was that stuff he rubbed all over himself anyway?"
Guen stared at me blankly, "Caitlin, who cares? He was pouring something down his chest and touching himself."
"Good point," I stated blankly, now jealous of whatever liquid it was that he had poured all over the place. "Completely perfect except for that bellybutton of his," I said mostly to myself.
Guen sighed loudly, "He was naked and you concentrate on his bellybutton."
"Bellybuttons are important, you know!" I argued.
Guen just shook her head at me, "Bellybutton," she said, "you look not at his glistening, glittering chest, but his bellybutton."
"I paid plenty of attention to the rest of him. Just the blond hair and the bellybutton threw me off."
"There's nothing wrong with blond hair!" Guen exclaimed. She liked blondes and I didn't, so this was a classic argument between us.
"Yeah, that's why you go for Luke," I teased, yet another classic argument.
"No, Luke doesn't have chest hair," she stated simply.
"Neither does Ewan in Velvet Goldmine," I countered.
"Well, he does in real life."
"True. So what's on this tape?"
"He's in our city as we speak, last night he did the Late Show and this morning he did the Today Show and Regis."
"Whoa, feel the vibes man. He's in the same city! We've gotta go hunt him down!" I started waving my arms around so I could 'feel the vibes.' Guen just laughed at me and slipped in the tape.
*One hour later, after watching all of his appearances*
I wiped the drool from my chin and lay down on my wood floor, sighing, "I love his accent," I cooed.
"I love him," Guen said as she switched off the tape.
"Well," I sat up, "That goes without saying."
"It's not fair," I beat the floor with my fists, "That hostess got a big hug from him. And she was totally drooling over him, that's our job!"
"Regis said he's expecting another baby," Guen humored me. I just dropped my head to the floor and wailed. She patted me sympathetically. I rolled and sat up again, pondering.
"He changes clothes a lot."
"Rich people do that, Caitlin," Guen shook her head at me mock-condescendingly.
"He must have been hot underneath that black windbreaker he wore on Dave…" I trailed off dreamily.
"Hot and sweaty," Guen completed the thought, "I bet you would've helped him with that."
"With pleasure," I grinned and put my hands behind my head, "it had a zipper, very easy access to what's underneath…"
"Mmmmmm," Guen acknowledged, equally dreamily.
"But seriously, he changed clothes at least three times, maybe more," I started up again. Not getting much of a response from my dreaming friend, I sighed and began to wonder about the minor details, "I wonder where those green socks ended up."
Guenever burst out laughing.
"I say we hit the city and find him, he's probably out partying in some club," I offered her.
"Sure Cadi, I'll print up the fake ID's and you pay for train fare," Guen mused.
"Okay, okay, can we at least go into Manhattan and scope out the ritzy hotels?"
"Sure," Guen stated. I couldn't tell if she was serious or not, so I got up to get ready to go.
*One hour later, in Manhattan*
Guen and I stood just outside the train station stairwell, deciding where to go first. She had put together her gold platform shoes, tight black sparkling pants and her tight silver shirt, topped with a braid and a Yoda baseball cap. I had managed to throw together my darkest blue flare jeans and purple camisole with my gray woven over-shirt and purple boots, with my hair down as usual. In a sentence- we had dressed in clothing we wanted Ewan to see us in. The Plaza would be a likely target, so we started walking.
"What if he threw the green socks in the laundry chute of the hotel?" I asked my counterpart as we neared the Plaza.
"Then we'll just have to find them," she said.
Suddenly I started jumping like a maniac, scaring the people on the street, but I always do that, so Guen wasn't too shocked, "I have an idea!"
"Oh no," Guen said grimly.
"A really goooooooooood idea," I continued.
"Do tell," Guen feared the worst.
"We pose as new maids on our first night of work, that will get us into both the laundry room and maybe even Ewan's room!" I continued jumping.
"You're crazy," Guen said.
"That's why I hang out with you, remember?"
"And how do we get past security?"
"We use the Force," I said, waving my hand, mocking a Jedi mind trick.
"Fair enough," Guen said, leading the way inside the Plaza Hotel. The security guard gave us a once-over as we approached the desk. I fought down my shyness and looked at him innocently.
"Um, hi," I said to him, he remained motionless, "we're the two new maids that were hired, tonight's our first shift," I said, praying he would buy it. The man gave us a snooty expression.
"Very well," he said, "I'll need to see your official papers so I can give you your ID tags."
Crap, I thought. I glanced at Guen, who was buying this about as much as the security guard. I took a deep breath and held it for a second, then concentrated and waved my hand, "You don't need to see our official papers," I bit my lip and prayed again that this would work.
After a moment his eyes glazed over with absence, "I don't need to see your official papers," he repeated. Guen stared at me with amazement, I just shrugged at her with equal surprise. Apparently the Force was with us tonight. I smiled and waved my hand again, "You will give us our ID tags without further questioning."
"I will give you your ID tags without further questioning," the man repeated and motioned for us to follow him. Moments later we came out with brand new Plaza Hotel ID tags, picture and all. We followed the security guard back to the desk. I was enjoying my power trip.
"Now," I said persuasively, "you will tell me if Ewan McGregor is here, and what room he's in."
The security guard blankly checked the computer and within seconds told us that he was in room 510. After an excited giggle fit I thanked the guard and went with Guen to the elevators. Within seconds we had been zipped up to the 5th floor. Approaching room 510, I stopped abruptly.
"Guen-?" I asked quietly.
"Yeah Caitlin?" she responded quickly enough.
"I can't do it," I said in a quivering voice.
"What?" my best friend asked in disbelief, "What do you mean you can't do it? We just went through all that to get here."
"I'm afraid I'll do something stupid," Guen rolled her eyes at me, "I could die."
"Die of what?" she said skeptically.
I gave a small smile with my response, "Die of happiness, I could hyperventilate…" I was cut short as Guen pulled me by the hand towards the room.
"You got us all the way up here," she was saying, "you can't freak out now."
"Guen! No! Leggo! Ah!" I tried to fight her grip on my wrist but she held fast. We neared the door and she clasped her hand over my mouth, "Shut up Cadi! Just breathe, okay? I'll do the talking," so as usual Guen took over as the brains of the operation as I faded out.
With a deep breath she gave a small knock on the door, all the while holding me. Completely catatonic, I stumbled and fell against the door. Guen attempted to pull me off, but to no avail. Inside I could hear water being turned off and I gulped as I tried to regain logical thinking.
"'Oo is it?" came a man's voice from inside- a voice Guen and I recognized immediately. That snapped me out of it and I jolted straight up, breathing quickening by the second. Guen looked at me and put her finger to her lips telling me to keep quiet.
"Room service," she called politely.
"Oh! Come in, come in!" came the cheery response and the unlatching of the door. The door swung open seconds later to reveal a lavish hotel room and a figure ducking behind the bathroom door. Guen examined the place and then pushed me forward into the room so she could shut the door. I was breathing so fast things were starting to get fuzzy. Guen grasped me by the shoulders and looked me in the eye.
"Caitlin, this is your chance to meet Ewan McGregor, you want to be conscious so you can remember him, right?"
I nodded my head rapidly.
"Ok, so slow down your breathing, and concentrate on calming yourself down," she commanded. Eventually I managed to follow her directions and calmed down a bit. I could hear a doorknob being turned and looked toward the room the figure had disappeared into before.
And from the room appeared a god- most of you know him as Ewan McGregor- in a pair of sweats and a white undershirt, toweling off his fuzzy auburn hair. He smiled politely at us, ""Ello girls, what can I do for you?" he said with that marvelous Scottish accent of his. Guen blinked, and then blinked harder. A small gasp escaped me, and suddenly I was overcome with euphoria. I dropped down to the floor, bowing my head as far down to the floor as I could manage, "I'm not worthy!" I said.
Ewan looked at me, and then to Guen. He pointed at me, "Is she all right?" he said, confused.
"Oh yeah, she's fine," Guen assured him, "we're just- really big fans," she smiled at him, savoring every second of his presence.
"Oh ho, I see," he said, laughing. With only a slight hesitation he bent down beside me and broke my worship by tapping me on the shoulder. I looked up to find those gorgeous blues/greens/grays twinkling at me, "Ahm (Author's Note: this should be spelled 'um,' but he says it 'ahm,' cute, don't you think?), would you like an autograph or something?" he asked. I opened my mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Ewan looked to Guen again for help.
"What she's trying to say is yes, she would love an autograph, but what we really want is your clothes," she answered. Only a few seconds later did she realize how her request could be taken.
"My clothes?" he asked, confused again by the teenaged babble.
"Your dirty clothes," I managed to spurt out, not that it helped the situation.
"Your laundry," Guen emphasized, "We're room service, remember?"
It took him a second or two but Ewan came around, "Oh! Oh yes, of course," he began moving around the room to pick up the discarded garments lying around the place. I meanwhile managed to stand on my own two feet again. Guen gave me a look that told me she didn't know whether to laugh at me or shake her head in dismay. I was busy following Ewan's every move with dreamy eyes. Within a few minutes he came back to us with a pile of clothes of assorted colors. Neither of us had a bag so we removed our coats and made a makeshift sack to carry the stuff. Guen tied the sleeves of her mafia coat to the shaggy sleeves of my long dark denim one to make a nice handle to the creation. Ewan gave us a strange look but nonetheless plopped his clothing into the new sack.
"Pleasure meeting you, girls," he said politely as he got the door for us, "will you be returning it to me when it's done?"
"It should be done in about an hour and a half, would we be disturbing you if we came up?" Guen was the only one functional enough to ask.
"Oh no, I should still be up," he waved his hand carelessly. With another push from Guen I managed to start moving again, "Oh! Wait!" he called to us suddenly, "I owe you an autograph," he said and began looking around for something to write with. I made one conscious thought for the night and handed him my trusty purple pen. The next problem was he needed something to write on, and neither of us could help him there. His eyes fell on the white undershirt he had on, and with visible mental debate shrugged, and pulled it off in a matter of seconds. Guen and I looked at each other as our jaws dropped in turn- this couldn't be happening. As our eyes fell on his body he started writing, but soon looked up at us again, "Sorry, I never got your names," oblivious to our stares.
"Caitlin," I managed to speak once again, perhaps I was recovering from the initial shock, "and she's Guenever."
A few seconds later the still-topless Ewan McGregor handed me his undershirt. My brain told my arm to move, it just didn't work, so eventually Guen raised my arm for me so he could place the shirt in my hand.
"Ahm," he said with a witty glint in his eye, "make sure you don't wash that, now."
"We won't," Guen complied, "See you later."
As the door shut, Guen sighed deeply, "That was fun," she said with a grin.
I still couldn't talk, so instead I began sorting through the laundry. It was all there, the black T-shirt and matching windbreaker- the one with the zipper, the dark jeans, the Nashville T-shirt, everything. I examined each garment, my mind flashing back to the talk shows I had seen them on.
"Well I guess that answers the 'boxers or briefs' question," Guen joked in reference to a certain garment that was in the pile. I was slowly going back to my old self, and cracked up when she said it.
"But-" I started, realizing something as we piled the clothes into the machine the lady down there told us was the fastest.
"What?" Guen asked.
"No green socks," I said, half disappointed and half curious as to why they weren't there.
"He must've forgotten to give them to us," Guen said logically.
"Aw man," I replied.
*Meanwhile, back in Ewan's hotel room*
Ewan was leisurely watching TV and sipping some tasty whiskey when he heard a rustling underneath the king-size bed. He took a look under there nonchalantly, and was surprised to find a pair of his green socks lying there.
"Must've missed them when the girls were here," he said to nobody, chuckling quietly to himself as he remembered the taller one's look on her face when he'd emerged from the bathroom and his identity registered with her. He picked up the socks and tossed them lazily onto the bed with him to continue watching TV.
But there was another noise under the bed. Curious and slightly annoyed, Ewan looked again.
"Eh he he he he he," came a gravelly laugh from underneath, and Ewan's eyes widened as he realized what was under there.
"What the-? Ah!" Ewan shouted as he was pulled under the bed.
***
The laundry was done soon enough, and we headed back up to Ewan's room. In control of myself this time, I proudly knocked on the door, "Mr. Ewan, sir? We're back with your laundry."
"Mr. Ewan?" Guen cocked an eyebrow mockingly.
"Shatap," I replied with a grin.
There was no verbal answer, the door just unlocked and opened slowly to reveal a dark and quiet room. Guen and I exchanged a glance, but entered the room anyway.
"Um, Mr. McGregor? We have your laundry here-" Guen offered the silence. Suddenly the lights flipped on, and a little green man jumped onto the bed. Guen and I gasped when we realized who it was.
"Eh he he he he he he! Startled you, I did!" came the ever-so-familiar gravelly voice and a wiggle of the pointy ears.
"That explains how the Force worked before," Guen said grimly. I smiled widely- I loved Yoda! But what was he doing here and what was on his hands. I squinted, trying to figure out what was covering his hands, and gave a loud gasp as I saw-
The green socks.
"Eh he he he he he! The Master of Green I am! Yes! Mine, the socks are! Mine! Eh he he he he he he!" Yoda laughed as he swigged down the last of Ewan's whiskey.
As we stared in awe, we heard a muffled cry from the closet. Guen was the first to run over to it. As I moved to follow, I was suddenly attacked by a flying green mass. Yoda tackled me and we hit the floor. Guen didn't notice as she threw open the closet door to discover a bound and gagged Ewan, whom she quickly untied (but not without remembering those bondage conversations a while back, right Guen?). Yoda and I rolled, he was beating at me with the socks on his hands, all the while laughing insanely. Thinking fast, Guen whipped off her hat and started beating the little troll with it as Ewan pulled a broomstick from the closet he had just been in and tried to pry him off. At first Yoda went unaffected, but soon enough he saw that the cap he was being beaten with had him on it.
"Mine!" the little demon cried as he lunged at it. Free now, I ran to the bed for a pillowcase as he proceeded to gnaw at my best friend's fingers, trying to get her to release the hat. Pillowcase ready in hand, I motioned to Ewan.
"Can you get that stick under his robes?" I yelled over Yoda's cackling and Guen's screaming.
"Sure," he yelled back and did so.
"Guen, when I say so, let go of the hat!" I yelled to her.
"No! I love this hat!"
"Trust me, just do it!" I looked back to Ewan, whose (not to mention gorgeous, dazzling, mesmerizing, divine…ahem, back to the story) eyes told me he was ready. "Ok," I said as loud as I could, "1…2…3! Let go, Guen!" Guen followed the command and let go of the cap, while Ewan used the stick as a lever and sent Yoda flying into the air. I managed to bag him inside the pillowcase and tied it up before the wriggling green mass could escape. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Ewan help Guen up.
"Are you alright?" he asked her.
"My hat," she said sadly, barely taking in that Ewan had just touched her.
"It's in here," I said to both of them, extending my arm to offer them the bag, "Want me to get it?"
"Please?" Guen said, taking the pillowcase from me so I could reach in and grab it. Carefully I wedged my hand through the tight opening and felt for the cap. Yoda started wriggling more than ever and screaming as I pulled on it. I pulled harder, wishing the midget would give up already. As if reading my thoughts, he suddenly let go and I went flying. Ewan moved fast and managed to catch me before I collided with a very expensive-looking lamp. But even before I could enjoy my new position he stood me upright, laughing heartily. I handed Guen the cap as I went back to standing by her side.
"Ahm, well, that was exciting, wasn't it?" he said to us jokingly. We giggled feverishly in return. "I can't thank you enough girls," he said then, seriously. He clasped his hands together and shuddered at the still-wriggling pillowcase.
"What are we going to do with him?" Guenever asked to no one in particular.
Ewan grinned widely and led us to the perfect solution.
We enjoyed hearing the *clunk* as the Yoda-stuffed pillowcase found the end of the laundry chute. That taken care of, Guen and I knew we had to get going. Autographed undershirt in hand, she and I looked at the god for one last time.
"Goodbye, Mr. McGregor," Guen was the first to say.
"Oh please, call me Ewan," he said with another of his knockout smiles.
"Ok, goodbye Ewan. Um, do you think I could-" I had gotten a pleasant idea but decided it best not to ask.
"Could what?" he and Guen asked in unison.
"Never mind, I'm embarrassed to ask," I said shyly.
"What? Tell me," he pleaded politely, his smile unfading.
I sighed deeply, deciding to go ahead and ask anyway, "Could I have a hug?"
"Of course! You both can!" he exclaimed pleasantly, giving us each big hugs in turn. It was a hug that squashed my jealousy of that hostess on Regis. I must've been glowing with happiness at that point, but I didn't care, because the god had hugged me.
"Goodbye girls, and thanks for the laundry," he said laughing as he closed the door. Guen and I must've stood there grinning like idiots in the hallway for some time before we remembered the autographed undershirt. I unfolded it and read the message out loud: "To Caitlin and Guenever, May the Force be with You, Love, Ewan McGregor."
"Wow," Guen sighed.
"He must've noticed your cap," I thought out loud.
"Yep," Guen said proudly.
So a night that had begun with green socks had ended with a Yoda cap with a new special memory behind it, and the shirt straight off of Ewan McGregor's back.
Tada! You like? I'm crazy I know. Bet you never suspected Yoda to make an appearance. Muahaha!